Sweet Home Alabama

Dean jolts awake.

The room spins so violently that he falls back on his elbows, barely catching his own weight. The spinning doesn't stop, and he struggles to turn onto his side so he can throw up without choking. But all he can do is dry heave while fighting to breath.

Slowly, so painfully slowly, the room stops tilting and he can finally get his stomach under control and take some deep, grounding breaths.

The air is crisp and cool, and despite ripping at his sore throat, it feels oh so good.

He slowly sits up, afraid that the world will take another trip on the invisible rollercoaster, but everything stays blissfully still.

He has no idea for how long he has been tumbling around on the floor, but he can finally look around and find out where he is. It's dark, but it smells like wet wood. He looks up, only to realise that there is no roof, only faraway stars blinking down to him. The walls around him are partially gone. It looks like a small ruin.

He slowly stands up, reaching a hand out to grab for some kind of support while he takes it all in. His hand finds a charred, wooden beam, and the surface crumbles under his grip.

He turns to check if the beam is steady, but instead he finds a too familiar rebar attached to the wood, right over his hand. Immediately, the memory of his final moments on Earth comes crashing back. The pain of being impaled, Sam's desperate pleas, how cold his hand had felt when it grabbed the warm back of Sam's neck. How everything faded and… nothing.

He carefully moves a hand up and down his back, trying to find the gaping hole that should be there. He expects his hand to be covered in red, sticky warmth, but his clothes are without an extra breathing hole and his spine feels normal.

"What the…?" His voice is rough, and it hurts to speak, something that reminds him of the last time he woke up from the dead. He did die, didn't he, on that rebar? Did he go to Hell again? Afterall, a soul that had once been in Hell couldn't go to Heaven, and with all the other shit Dean had done since…

But he doesn't remember being in Hell, unlike last time where the memories were painfully clear.

Maybe the angels got it right this time, erasing the painful memories in the resurrection process. But Jack had said no more interventions, and they hadn't heard a peep from him since he beamed up to Heaven. Does that mean that the angels aren't behind this?

Did Sam do something stupid? Please no. No, no, no, no, no, this was all supposed to be over. No more deals, no more apocalypses, no more asshole deities playing with their lives.

He stumbles out of the leftovers of the barn. Despite having a clear view of the dark night sky inside the small building, he feels an immense relief once he stands outside, looking at the blackened, collapsed walls.

Someone burned it down. Maybe Sam buried him here? No, his brother would be too sentimental. Sam would give him a proper hunter's burial. Then again, last time Dean came back from the dead, he woke up where Sam had buried him in a coffin, like a civilian. Did he do that again, that fool? But then why the bonfire?

The vampires. Dean was far from the only one kicking the bucket that day. Sam must have burned those blood suckers. Easy clean-up.

Question is just… Where is Sam? When did he burn the barn? What date is it?

God, Dean really hates this part of coming back from the dead… Which is the kind of complaint that no human should be able to make.

Well, at least he knows where he is this time. He starts walking down the dirt road that he remembers him and Sam taking in the Impala. The tyre tracks are gone, so he must have been dead for a decent amount of time.

Canton city is at least a couple of miles away, and Dean is starting to shiver a bit in the cold. He sees brown and golden leaves on the trees and spread out on the path, indicating that it must be Autumn.

Dean starts patting down his jacket for his phone, his gun, his knives, but nothing is where it's supposed to be. Why does resurrection always come with a strip down?

He crosses his arms over his chest to preserve some warmth, happy that he at least didn't wake up naked.

-.-.-.-.-

Dean is happy that he recognises the first car that he comes across, because that means no back-to-the-future-level technology that keeps him from hotwiring it. He is lucky to find the car door open, probably because the small cottage is out in nowhere, hidden behind trees and bushes, and if Dean hadn't been on foot, he would most likely have travelled right passed it.

He works as efficiently as ever, the car quickly roaring to life. Unfortunately, the car has not been as pampered as his Baby, and it coughs and hisses before springing to life. In that time, the cottage owner jumps out of bed, and just when the car starts rolling down the driveway, the first shot hits the back of the car.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean hisses and tries to duck as much as possible while still guiding the car securely to the main road.

"Hey! Get back here!" Another shot splinters the back window, the bullet drilling into the passenger seat by the sound of it.

"Sorry, dude." Dean turns onto the road just as the third shot hits a tree, sending splinters over the roof of the car.

Thank God, the guy shoots like a storm trooper.

-.-.-.-.-

Lebanon is just about 1000 miles from Canton. 16 hours behind the wheel.

It's nothing that Dean hasn't done hundreds of times before, but he is thirsty as hell. His throat is sore and itchy. He feels like coughing but every time he does, the pain goes from dull to stabbing.

On top of that, he can't stick with this car for too long. He's got enough gas for the first 200 miles, but the owner saw him and has probably already reported it, and the gunshot to the back window will surely raise a few eyebrows once daylight breaks.

He dumps the car at a parking place in the outskirts of Dayton. Better change cars before hitting the state boarder. He walks around the neighbourhood before coming across a lonely pickup, and luckily, it's still early enough for the streets to be empty. The display in the car says 4:36 AM in bright green light, but the model too old to supply him with a date.

On his way out of town, he drives through a residential area decorated in ghosts, pumpkins, and skeletons. October it is then.

-.-.-.-.-

The pickup gets him another 400 miles and just inside of Missouri. He stops at a Gas'n'Sip just outside Hannibal and almost tumbles into the public bathroom. He ignores the dirty floors and scattered paper towels and just dives under the first faucet. He doesn't think about the quality of the water, just desperately needs something to drink, and it is divine.

When his stomach feels full, he splashes some water in his face. It is refreshing and amazing and nothing has ever felt this good.

Just 400 miles to go, and it's not even noon yet, so hopefully he can be in Lebanon by 4:30 PM.

The water must clear his mind as well because this is the first time that he realises that Sam might not be in Lebanon. Dean still doesn't know what date it is. What if it's like 2060 and Sam is old, wrinkly, and locked up in a nursing home somewhere? Or what if it is 2021 and Sam simply just moved?

Dean looks up, meeting his own eyes in the cracked mirror. He looks exactly the same as last time he looked in a mirror. But that's not really a good indicator, is it?

He dries off most of the water with a rough paper towel and heads inside the Gas'n'Sip. It looks the same. Just like the houses he passed on his way here, the shop is decorated with plastic Halloween decorations and the real cobwebs are covered by fake ones.

A bit more vegetables on the menu than what he remembers, but tacos are still roasting behind the counter. Dean's stomach immediately takes notice. For a moment he considers acquiring some food with five-finger-discount, but he is too close to his goal to get involved with authorities now. The teenager behind the counter is surprisingly perky and greats him with a huge smile. She will be watching him all the time since there's nothing better to do.

Instead, he walks straight up to the newspaper stand. He takes a deep breath as he looks at the date on the front page of the paper on top of the display.

October 31st, 2024.

"Is this today's paper?" He asks, just to be sure. It feels amazing to speak without his vocal cords grinding like sandpaper.

"Yep," Little miss sunshine beams at him.

2024. He's been dead for almost four years. Sam isn't in a nursing home yet. He might still be in Lebanon. Dean doesn't know if he wants Sam to still be there after four years. He wants his brother to have moved on. And yet, Dean can't help but hope that Sam is still there. Dean doesn't know why he is back, or how, but maybe Sam has the answers. And even if he doesn't, Dean just really wants to see his brother again.

-.-.-.-.-

Third car, third stretch of road.

Dean has been all over the States and most of the Interstates are as familiar to him as the back of his own hand. But it's not until he drives down the gravel road to the bunker that he fully understands that he is back. He feels nervous and excited to be so close to home.

Home. Who would ever have thought that he would have one of those?

The door is closed and of course he doesn't have the key, so he slams his fist on the cold iron. "Come on, come on…"

And the door opens.

But it's not Sam. It's some guy who looks like he ate another guy. He's huge! Like, seven feet of muscle. At first, he looks as if he's about to tell Dean to get lost, but then he blinks and his mouth drops. "You…"

Dean opens his mouth to say something, to ask about Sam, but the guy slams the door in his face. Dean immediately starts pounding on the door again. "Hey! Open the door! Come on! Open the goddamn door! SAMMY!"

The door opens again, and now it's the skyscraper of a little brother that he remembers. Except, Sam is surrounded by three other guys, one of them being the mountain of muscles from before. Sam just stares, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"Hey Sammy." Dean can't help but smile.

The men behind Sam raise their guns, knives, and holy water.

Sam takes a deep breath. "It can't be you. Jack said no more second chances."

"I know," Dean says and spreads his arms. "But here I am."

Sam looks uncertain, clearly afraid to believe that Dean is actually back. His voice is tight as he says: "You know the drill."

Right, the welcome-back-to-Earth-starter-kit. Dean reaches towards one of the guys with holy water. The guy immediately grips his gun tighter. Dean just raises an eyebrow at the man. "Mind if I do that myself?"

The guy looks to Sam, seemingly surprised by Dean's relaxed demeanour. Sam gives a small nod. The guy hands over the flask of holy water as quickly as possible, clearly avoiding the risk of Dean grabbing his arm.

Dean winks at Sam, just because he can be the annoying big brother again, and takes a big gulp. He is thirsty again after the last six hours of driving. He then pours some on his hands, just to show the guys that he didn't try to trick them by pretending to drink.

"Knife?" Dean asks, and this time Sam hands over a silver knife. Dean rolls up his sleeve and performs the familiar test, red blood soon tickling down his arm. "We good?"

"Almost." Sam now produces an angel blade and hands it towards Dean.

"Seriously?" Dean takes the blade.

"Seriously," Sam states. His voice is still tight, but Dean can see hope shining deep in his eyes.

Dean cuts another line on his arm. He is fresh off the assembly line and has already secured himself two new scars. Great.

Sam draws in a breath as if he hasn't been breathing this entire time. "Dean?"

"Hey, little bro." Dean barely speaks the words before he is engulfed in Sam's arms. He immediately grabs onto the plaided shirt on Sam's back as if it were a lifeline. "Damn, it's good to see you."

"You too. God, it's been… Four years." Dean is happy that he can't see Sam's face. Just hearing how emotional Sam's voice is almost breaks him.

"I know… Happy Halloween!"

The joke has the desired effect and Sam breaks away with a laugh. He quickly dries his eyes. "Yeah… This is probably the best Halloween ever."

Now that Dean is not engulfed by Sam, he notices the other guys whispering in the background.

"…But he passed the tests."

"Yeah, but that can't really be Dean Winchester…"

"Sam seems to think so…"

Dean speaks up: "Hey. I really am Dean freaking Winchester, okay? If you're going to hang around here, get used to people coming and going, even after they die."

The guys look surprised. Sam rolls his eyes but can't help but smile. He steps back to let Dean in. "Alright, guys, could you give us some space?"

The guys scramble down the stairs, leaving room for Dean to step inside. The bunker itself hasn't changed much from what he remembers, but there are more people than last time he was here. Some are clearly hunters, carrying the weapons, scars, and attitudes that he knows all too well. Others look more like nerds working on a school project, buried in books and papers.

"Who are all these people?" Dean gapes.

In lieu of an answer, Sam puts a hand on his arm and guides Dean down the stairs. "Come on. Let's find some place more quiet."

When Dean reaches the bottom of the stairs, he gets a flashback to when he returned after being possessed by Michael. All the people from Apocalypse World stopping in their tracks and looking at him in fear. However, this time, it's a bunch of strangers looking at him in awe. Still, the hairs at the back of his neck stand attention.

Before Sam can drag him away, a scrawly looking man in an ugly all-year-round-sweater steps forward. "Whoa, you really are Dean Winchester." He grabs Dean's hand and starts shaking it. "It's an honour, really."

Dean carefully extracts his hand from the man's eager greeting. "Thanks… I think."

Sam takes pity on Dean but can't hide the smirk on his face. "Dean, this is Thomas. One of our researchers. Thomas, we'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay." Thomas follows them with his awestruck eyes all the way down the hallway.

-.-.-.-.-

Sam takes Dean to his old bedroom. It looks the same, except for his most personal belongings missing and a fine layer of dust covering everything. His gun display is still on the wall, but his box of family photos and his clothes are gone.

His eyes are immediately drawn to the end of his bed, which seems oddly naked. For a moment, Dean wonders why, but then the remembers. "Where's Miracle?" That damn dog really wormed its way under Dean's skin in such a short time.

"She's good. We'll see her later." Sam leans against the desk. "Listen, I really am happy to see you, but… Whenever one of us comes back from the dead, it's usually not all rainbows and puppies. So, why are you back?"

Dean sighs and drops down on the bed. "I don't know, man. I… I just woke up, you know, where it ended. Like no time had passed."

"You don't know how you got there?" Sam frowns.

"No." Dean shakes his head. "I don't remember anything."

Sam shifts uneasily. "You don't think… Did Jack…?"

"He said no more interference," Dean says decisively.

"But… He's also Jack. Maybe he decided you deserved another chance."

"How many second chances does one guy get?"

Sam huffs: "I think we stopped counting a long time ago."

"Yeah…" Dean stands up again, pacing the small room. "So, you and the mega Scooby gang hasn't picked up on anything big? No big bads or apocalypses roaming the Earth?"

"No. Things have actually been pretty quiet. Monsters still go bump in the night, but after Chuck, the number of cases just dropped. You remember that, right?"

That was true. The brief time that Dean got to spend on Earth after Chuck had probably been the most peaceful, he had ever experienced. He and Sam had even talked about moving out of the bunker, getting a place with windows.

But apparently Sam didn't follow up on that plan. Dean looks around the room, his guns on the wall, his knick-knack on the shelves. "With all those people out there… You still kept my room?"

"Yeah… yeah, I did." Sam avoids looking at Dean.

Dean swallows and diverts the subject. "And who are all your new friends?"

"Hunters, mostly, spending the night or researching their cases," Sam relays, "Some are researchers of the paranormal who came a bit too close to the subject they were studying. They help with research and cataloging everything that we have in the bunker. The more we know, the better, right?"

Dean is impressed. Sounds like Sam has built an army. But he also feels guilty. This is not what he wanted for his baby brother. "Thought you would have gotten out. I hoped you…"

"I did," Sam interrupts. "Well, sort of. Come on, I'll show you."

-.-.-.-.-

Dean drops his 'borrowed' car on an empty country road. Sam picks him up in an old pick-up that Dean doesn't remember. Dean is hit by a jolt of fear as he asks about Baby, but Sam just ensures him that she is okay.

They drive to one of the residential areas of Lebanon, a real suburban feeling to the place. Dean doesn't remember ever going here, always heading downtown for supplies and straight back to the bunker. Everything is covered in Halloween decorations and children are already trick or treating in the last rays of sunlight.

Dean is surprised when Sam turns the car into one of the driveways, parking next to a family car. "What are we doing here?"

Sam puts the car into park. "I live here."

"You live here?" Dean looks around, gaping at first, but then he slowly starts smiling. This is more like it. "White picket fence, perfectly mowed lawn. You got yourself a real apple pie life. Good for you!"

"Yeah." Sam smiles shyly. "And… There's more."

In that moment, the front door opens. Both Dean and Sam turn towards the movement. Dean's mouth drops when he sees Eileen walking out of the house. With a small kid in her arms.

Sam exits the car, greeting them. Dean follows slowly. He knows what's going on, but somehow his head can't catch up.

Eileen hands the kid over to Sam and runs over to Dean. "Dean! I can't believe you're really back!" She throws herself in his arms and he happily accepts the hug. Sam must have texted her earlier since she seems surprised but not shocked to see him.

Dean looks up and sees Sam smiling at them, tears in his eyes. Dean smiles back at him. "So, you got your head out of your ass, huh? Put a ring on it?"

Sam laughs: "Yeah, I did."

Eileen must have felt Dean speaking because she pulls back. "It's so good to see you."

"You too, sis. Thank you for looking after this idiot." Dean points at Sam.

"You're welcome." Eileen turns back to Sam, waving him forward.

Dean finally gets a good view of the small kid in Sam's arms. Looks like a boy, dressed in jeans with car patches and a blue-striped shirt. He has a hat shaped like the top of a pumpkin on, the only indication of a costume.

Sam turns the boy so he can see Dean properly. "Dean, this is your nephew Dean."

"My nephew," Dean repeats, trying to absorb this new knowledge. "I have a nephew!"

"Dean, this is your uncle Dean." It's not until Sam continues that Dean fully understands that the introduction didn't only contain his own name.

"Wait, what? You named him…?" Dean can't get himself to ask.

"We named him after you," Eileen confirms with a huge smile.

Dean immediately fights back tears. He knows that Sam cares about him, but he also knows that he has not always been the best big brother in the world. He's been too stubborn, too aggressive, too commanding. But even after all that, Sam named his son after him. After swallowing hard, Dean finally says: "Well… That's a pretty good name you've got there, kiddo."

The boy giggles and hides his face in the crook of his dad's neck.

Dean pokes at the stem of the pumpkin-hat. "You going trick-or-treating?"

"No," Eileen answers, "He's still too young for that."

"How old is he?" Dean can't take his eyes of the small kid. The boy keeps changing between peaking at Dean and hiding again, giggling. Dean is grinning like a maniac at the too-cute display.

"Almost two." Sam is glowing with pride.

"Two…" Even though Dean knows that he has been gone for a long time, this is when it hits him. He missed his brother's wedding. He missed his brother buying his first house. He missed the birth of his nephew, and his first birthday. Damn, everything looked so familiar, but so much has changed in the past four years.

"Come on inside. I want to hear everything." Eileen drags Dean by the arm into the small home.

-.-.-.-.-

Just as before, Dean doesn't have a lot to tell. He died, he woke up, he drove to Lebanon, that's it. They quickly make the same conclusion as earlier: Dean being here is great but probably not a good sign.

Instead, Dean spends a lot of time looking at all the pictures in the home. Sam has framed the old photos that Dean kept in a shoe box. They look great in their frames, much better than in the box. Many more has been added. Of course, there's a bunch of pictures of Baby Dean. He looks so much like Sam did that age. There's pictures of Sam and Eileen; Their wedding, Sam renovating their home while Eileen is heavily pregnant, and pictures with familiar faces; Claire, Kaia, Alex, Patience, Jody, Donna, the Fitzgerald family and many more.

Dean is mostly surprised to find more pictures of himself, pictures that he doesn't remember. Most of them seem to be of questionable quality, probably snapped with a phone long before phones had a build-in SLR camera. Pictures from when Sam and Dean got back together on the road in search of their dad. God, it feels like eons ago. Dean guesses that it kinda is. It's been almost twenty years on Earth, plus forty years down under for him, since he picked up Sam in California. It's a lifetime.

On top of all of this, Dean finds that Miracle has been running around in the backyard when they arrived. She has clearly not forgotten about Dean and greets him like only a dog who has not seen their owner in four years can. Parts of her fur is whiter with age, and Dean stubbornly ignores the sting he feels at the time he has missed with her as well. Poor thing had already lost one owner when they found her. But seeing her with Baby Dean almost makes up for it. She has clearly taken to the kid like a fish to water.

It's a small but warm and welcoming house. On the ground floor there's a kitchen, a cosy living room and a small office where every wall is filled with books on the supernatural. On the top floor, they have the bedrooms: The master bedroom, Baby Dean's room and a small guest room.

Eileen brings out a pumpkin pie that they were supposed to have tonight in honour of Halloween. Dean eats more than half, finally getting something to eat. Eileen tries to get Dean to convince Sam to get more into the Halloween spirit, and after a good teasing from both of them, Sam promises to do better when Baby Dean gets older.

It's almost midnight when Dean finally runs out of energy. He has been running on water for most of the day, so finally getting something solid in his stomach makes him content and tired. He has taken in so much information that his head can't take anymore.

Sam takes him to the guest bedroom, which is a little bigger than Dean's room in the bunker and a lot warmer and cosier. Sam offers to wash his clothes, saying he can just borrow something in the morning. Dean appreciates it, as his clothes might not have a hole in the back, but they still have the other remnants of a vampire hunt; sweat and blood splatter.

Dean thought it might be hard for him to fall asleep, but as soon as his head hits the pillow, he drifts off to a dark, dreamless sleep.

At least it is dreamless until the darkness starts bubbling, almost as if it were boiling tar.

"…Dean… Help…

Find the Amulets…

The Amulets of the Gospels…"